Listen

Lately I've been doing a lot of listening, a lot of paying attention to the voice that doesn't use words, in this case, my body. As an athlete, listening to your body is not always easy, especially when your heart and mind would rather just flip your body the bird and keep on moving. We all know how that ends, though, and it is not a Rumi quote.

A few weeks ago, during my listening phase, I decided to head back to my local crossfit gym, Green Mountain Crossfit at The Confluence. At one point pre-injuries, I was doing crossfit 2-3 times a week there and loving it. For various life and then injury reasons, I fell out of the rhythm of going and it had been a while since I had a good WOD (workout of the day).

I was nervous as I laced up my sneakers and headed down to the workout area. There were some new faces, but most people I recognized, and the warm greeting I got was beyond welcoming. The instructor, Nick, led us through the warm-up and mobility movements as the 9 athletes circled around him. There was one man there who had done a particularly challenging WOD just a couple days before, and with each mobility movement he was exclaiming his soreness and the impossibility of certain positions.  As we reached up with a plastic PVC pipe overhead, we heard a "What the heck...jesus...that's not ok..." and so on. I appreciated his hilarious commentary because while I didn't share his soreness, I was feeling a little rusty in my mobility and I felt he was reading my mind.

After the warm-up and mobility, we got into some strength movements, and then the workout itself. I went easy and light with the weights, but there was no pressure to do otherwise. As Nick walked around, he gave me spot-on tips to correct mistakes in my form that I hadn't noticed myself. I finished the WOD sweaty, but not completely spent, and so excited about how good it felt! As we stretched out, each person I didn't know introduced themselves to me and welcomed me to the gym.

Last week when I blogged about looking for my Golden Egg, a friend wisely commented that I would "find it within." While I completely agree, I also think that a great community who supports, encourages, and coaches you can help you discover what is within. I am so lucky to have found that support at The Confluence. I have been back several times since that first WOD a few weeks ago, and for the next 8 weeks I will be working with the awesome team of instructors and fitness specialists as I train for the Montpelier Mile on July 3rd.

I look forward to keeping you posted on my progress, sharing my goals and what I have learned with this blog. And, if you're local, please join me at The Confluence or on the track!

My Golden Egg

It has been over a year since my last post. In many ways, it's been a pretty awesome year. I got a job that I love, working with great people, the boys are growing and it's fun to see their unique selves emerge as they get older. My sister had a baby, little Adeline, who is now toddling around with serious cuteness. So, yeah, life has been happening.

In the constant balance of life, though, not everything has been awesome. Since I hurt my back a year and a half ago, I have had a string of injuries. I was able to make it through many running years injury-free, and now I seem to be paying for it. I did have a few good running stretches in the past year, though. I was able to run a sub-6 minute mile last July and ran a 20:46 5k in the fall. Not the times I was hoping for, but I wasn't totally crushed. Then from Christmas to early April I was completely out of running- dealing with plantar fasciitis and GCKA (General Crappiness in the Knee Area). Coming back from the GCKA has been particularly hard, and now that I'm just starting back with running I'm realizing how much I lost and how hard I need to work to get back to where I want to be.

So, where to go from here? The big 4-0 hits at the end of the summer, and I have self-induced pressure to get some personal records before I'm too stinking old.  I'm not even near the shape I was in two years ago, and I'm kind of freaking out. Am I ever going to be able to run fast again, are my glory days over? Do you feel a Bruce Springstein song coming on or is it just me?

The point is, I need to find my golden egg. Some dear friends had an Easter party a month ago. They are famous for the amazing eggs hunts they have on their land, with literally hundreds of little plastic eggs hidden in their woods. They also hide a golden egg, and the child who finds the coveted golden egg wins a prize and in most cases, a lifetime of happiness (my 4 year old still regularly talks about how he found the golden egg 2 years ago). I know there is a golden egg that will open the door to strong running for me, that will help me reach my goals. Right now, I'm just standing in the woods, taking stock of where I'm at and keeping my eyes peeled for that golden egg.

And, as always, reminding myself that no matter what, if I feel like this when I'm running, I'm doing it all right:

Spring!! Yes!

Happy Spring! Looking outside at the fresh snow on bare branches, hearing sleet pinging on the windows, and with mountains of snow still here from last week’s storm, I can’t say it looks or feels like Spring. But just knowing that warmer temps and mud season are indeed just around the corner makes me feel a little lighter.

What else is making me feel lighter? I’m running outside again! Hooray! My back is healing well and I’m slowly getting some more miles under me. The final report after a handful of tests was in a nutshell:

·      Diagnosis: Shit happens.

·      Prognosis: Shit may happen again, or it may not.

·      Treatment: Deal with it.

You know what? I’ll take it. I’m so happy to be running again after almost a solid 4 months off that any time I step outside for a run, however hard, feels like a gift. I know the joy of it will begin to wear off over time, but right now even running a measly 2 miles in 7 degree temperatures (feels like 10 below), with wind blasting at my face and ice under my feet, I can’t seem to wipe the smile off my face. This is me after said run:

 Note my Rocky style boxing gloves/mittens. They may not be stylish but they are warm, and maybe even a little badass.

Make no mistake, I have a long way to go in regaining speed and endurance. A loooonnngg way. But I’m up for the challenge. And, I’ve learned some important lessons through this process. Here are the top three lessons learned:

1.  Stretching is not optional for me. So, apparently I have abnormally tight muscles, according to pretty much every specialist I saw (doctors, massage therapists, acupuncturists, chiropractors, heck, even the radiologist running a scan on me). Whether it has to do with my often poor posture, lack of stretching over the years, or genetics, I just have tight muscles, and that’s not good. Making time for stretching and/or yoga will need to be a priority for me if I want to stay injury-free. This will be the year that I grow to like yoga, darn it. 

2. It’s all about perspective. If someone had told me a year ago that I’d be spending most of this winter either not running, or running on a treadmill in my dark, dank basement I would have thought “what a major bummer.” But by the time I could try running on the treadmill, I hadn’t run in so long that I pretty much skipped right up to the machine and gave it a giant kiss before starting it up. And I found it to be fabulous! With a little help from my friend at Running With Music, I got some great new music, popped in my head phones and actually enjoyed every minute of it. Forget “dread-mill,” more like, “Can-I-get-a-Hallelujah-mill.”

3. Keep it light. I’ll be the first to admit, last year was a bit of a stressful year for me, and I let it creep into all aspects of my life, including running. Last spring, I went from being a stay-at-home mom and fitness instructor on the side to starting a business with my husband. This was a decision that set off many other changes for our family that in the end are helping us live our dream, but caused some stress and uncertainty while in the middle of it. Looking back I can say that while running functioned as my stress release, I ended up putting pressure on myself to reach certain racing goals, and that pressure contributed to an injury and therefore took away my main form of stress release. Darn catch-22. Now that I’m running again, I’m realizing that what I love about running is running itself, and racing is just a fun thing to do to share the excitement of running with others. Period. No pressure needed. I’m not training for the Olympics, I’m pushing 40, and I’m going to need running in my life for a long time. I don’t need to get any personal records to prove that I love to run. All I need is a good pair of sneakers, running friends, and the road ahead. I'll still race, but only for the fun of it.

Wishing you all happy, wet, muddy spring running! Yee-haa!

Diary of an Injured Runner

December 21st, 2013
Dear Diary,

Why is it that when I'm injured people seem to be running by my house way more than usual? There must be some kind of running flash mob that is intended to last throughout the duration of my injury. I counted 10 runners within a half-hour time period this morning. People running together, laughing and talking, runners on their own listening to music, one group of runners who were clearly doing a speed workout, zipping by my house in a line, taunting me. Would it be totally inappropriate to put a sign on my lawn saying "Injured Runner. Please run by slowly and try to look like you're not enjoying yourself one bit"?

December 23rd, 2013
Dear Sweet Diary,

I went for a run, I went for a run!! Yes, it was on a zero-gravity treadmill, with 75% of my body weight, 3x 2 minute intervals for a grand total of 6 minutes of jogging, with my great PT there keeping me from upping the speed and distance like I wanted to. But I'll take it. It felt great. I could have been zipped into those crazy tight spandex, running on air forever. I wonder if this is how good people who are 75% of my body weight feel when they run? Hmm...since I'm not going to be losing more than 30 pounds any time soon, I guess I'll just stick to the zero gravity treadmill.


January 2nd, 2014
Dear, Dear Diary,

Well, it is really cold out today and the sidewalks are very icy, so I guess I should be glad that I can't run outside today. I mean, who wants to bundle up in fleece-lined running pants, 2 layers of long underwear, wind jacket, neck warmer, hat and gloves, all just to go for a slippery, cold run...followed by a hot shower, tired muscles, a warm latte, and an eagerness to hit the road again the next day? I do, darn it, I DO!!! Sob, sob.

January 13, 2014
Dear Diary,

I saw an orthopedic nurse practitioner today, she was great. I'm going to call her Dr. Awesome. Dr. Awesome took a look at my x-ray from November and noticed something not quite right with my last vertebrae. She felt like it was slipped forward and up a bit. She ordered some more tests in the next couple of weeks. It was so nice to feel like someone is really looking at the whole picture, truly listening to my weird-o symptoms and desperation to understand what is going on with my back. Why I can run on the treadmill and feel good, but if I run even a block outside I get searing pain in my back. I'm feeling grateful for Dr. Awesome, and hopeful for getting some answers soon.

January 17, 2014
Dear Diary,

You went running today, didn't you? I can tell by your little joie de vivre, the extra spring in your step. I bet you ran 10 miles, I bet you did the North St- Horn of the Moon Rd loop just as the sun was coming up. That's my favorite run, you jerk. How could you, diary?

January 20th, 2014
Dear Diary,

Checking in for a medical procedure is so funny to me sometimes. I always try to be cheerful and polite despite totally dreading what I'm about to do. Why don't we as patients just tell it like it is when we check in for a particular procedure?

Checking in for a mammogram, for example, "Hi! You know those compressors in garbage trucks, the things that squish the garbage back in the truck, as it crunches and groans into a tight little space? Yeah, I'm here for that procedure. For my breasts. Super, thanks!"

Checking in for a dynamic x-ray: "I'm here to be put into totally awkward positions, basically balancing on my big toe while leaning to the side with my arms way out in front of me like an accomplished yoga instructor, only the opposite. Then they'll ask me to hold that pose while I hold my breath for like a minute. Yup, checking in for that. Great!"

Checking in for an MRI: "How's it going? Yeah, I'm about to be put flat on my back in a tiny enclosed space with giant earphones on so I am not so bothered by the jackhammering and alarm sounds around me for the next half-hour. Only the headphones don't work that well so I just get to imagine I'm stuck in a closet during a fire alarm while the wall I'm leaning against is being jackhammered. Thank you very much, I will now slip right into that hospital gown!"

Though I will say I am so very grateful this technology exists, I think it is very cool and I'm so curious what the x-ray and MRI will say about my body. And, I'm even more curious about the nuclear bone scan I will have in a couple weeks. It will take 5-6 hours?! Hmmm…wonder how I should check in for that?

Guest Post on Mama Says

Please check out my guest post on the Mama Says blog, which gives my long-winded comeback to strangers who say how unfortunate I am to have three boys. Click here: Drinking it Up With Three Boys

Pirate Cracker

I'll peak out from the depths of my injury-induced blues to say a quick "hi" to you, my blog readers. I'm not going to sugar-coat it, I've been really disappointed/grumpy/downright rude and unpleasant about my back. It is not getting better, I haven't run in more than 5 weeks, and I would give anything for a magic ball to know when I'll be pain free and running again.

Of course, despite all the whining I've been doing to my husband (sorry sweetie!), I do know it will get better and I do know there are silver-linings to this pause in my training. For example, I have read 3 books in the past 5 weeks. That is more than I read all year. I've also taken up knitting again, and have finished 5 hats and am just about to bind off on my 6th. (Yes, family, you know what you'll be getting for Christmas). And I've been cooking up new and different foods, and I've even followed a few recipes (gasp!). I just made homemade coconut milk tonight. It was insanely delicious, I could have guzzled the whole jar right there. Here's the recipe, because if you think you don't like coconut milk, this could be a game-changer for you.

Despite the silver linings, I do miss running terribly. I miss stepping outside in the quiet, crisp, dark morning, and meeting up with friends as we chat the miles away. I miss the rhythm that became so familiar to my body, and the satisfying feeling of tired leg muscles. I miss my favorite running routes so much that I sometimes run them in my head as I'm trying to fall asleep- the dirt roads, rolling hills and maple trees become old friends. And I miss feeling strong, feeling like I take care of my body and we understand each other. Now my back pain feels like such a mystery, I don't know exactly how it happened and I don't know how to let it heal. I don't know when it will heal and when I'll be running again. When I asked my physical therapist about signing up for an April half-marathon, she gave me a sympathetic smile and suggested not to sign up yet. I desperately wanted to shout profanities at her, but I saved that for the car ride home, by myself.

I'm not going to paste a smile on my face and say that I'm anything other than disappointed. But, I will recognize the silver linings as they come along. I'll leave you with a recent one: My three year old is such a handful right now; this child is so exhausting and marches to the beat of his own drum like no one's business, but he does constantly remind me of all that is good. When my back was spasming on Thanksgiving day (it was all those dishes!), and I was lying on the couch, he came up to me and said, "I'm the doctor and I'll make your back better." He then "wrote me a list," gave me a new nose (he put it on my face, which was nice), then proceeded to jump on me, pressing down on my shoulder with both hands (it didn't hurt, incidentally). My mom was nearby and she nearly shot out of her chair, wondering what the heck kind of a doctor he was. She asked him such, and he answered, "I'm a pirate cracker." Obviously. I knew just what he meant, and I realized that maybe I've taken him to one too many of my chiropractor appointments.

My very own "pirate cracker," getting ready for a day's work. 

A Body in Motion, a Different Motion

A body in motion stays in motion, unless it slams into a brick wall. Which is pretty much what it felt like when I hurt my back (see my post about it). After a handful of doctor's appointments and tests, it was determined that I have a bulging disc at the bottom of my spine, causing a pinched nerve and subsequent sciatica. For the past two weeks, I have been resting and trying to determine the best route to recovery. As well as obsessing about when I can start training again.

The physical therapist and doctor I have seen agreed that I will need around 6 weeks of limited activity and physical therapy before I can really start training again, and I will need to make sure I can run pain-free before I train hard again. I'm sure you can gather that this is hugely disappointing for me.

Intellectually, I know what I need to do. I know the stretches I should work on, and I know what activities are best for me. Physically, my body seems to understand it's limitations, and if I over-do something in the slightest, I certainly feel it. Emotionally, I'd like to make like my 3 year old and throw myself to the ground and flail my arms and legs and scream at the top of my lungs. Because even though my body slammed into the metaphorical brick wall a couple weeks ago, emotionally I still feel like I'm in motion. The rhythms of my long runs from weeks ago are still singing in me, the steady beat of my feet on the ground, the scattering of my thoughts and the saliency of my presence, just being there, in the moment, on the road, blissfully in motion. The challenge for me now is stepping away from that sense of peace I get from running, and finding a new rhythm, a new routine for the next month and a half or (gasp) more.

But, how do I find that sense of peace? What is it that will fulfill me the way running does? Here is a summary of the activities I can do, and my admittedly weak attempts at embracing them:

Yoga: I know, I KNOW! Yoga is good for me, I get it. I want to be walking around all loose and relaxed, telling people to "Namaste." But let me put it to you this way:  have you ever tried to set up a tent, and you clip in the poles and then try to get the end of the pole in it's little sleeve, and the pole just won't bend? Like, you're trying to bend a piece of steel into this little pocket, and you're like WTF! And the tent flies up and away from you, resisting to that tiny bend it needs to take. Yeah, that tent pole is my body. Me doing yoga is like trying to bend steel. I'm sure it will be glorious when I get there, but it's gonna' be a bitch to set up that tent.

Swimming: I love the thought of swimming, I really do. The fluidity and gentleness of it, the ease of motion, the way you can hear your heart beating. But let's face it, getting into a bathing suit in my "off shaving season" is never pleasant, and the water is never as warm as I want it to be, and there is nothing graceful about me swimming. When I was training for a triathlon a few years ago, I went to a swim training group at a local gym, led by a coach who is also a successful triathlete. It was crowded, and we had to share lanes. I was with a nice woman who must have been 30 years my elder, who proceeded to lap me at least 3 times during the 8 minute warm-up. We were WARMING UP for pete's sake, and I got passed. 3 times. The coach pulled me aside after the warm-up, and very sweetly suggested I head to the farthest lane, you know, for the painfully slow swimmers (I was the only one in that lane), and he gave me ideas on how to "pare down", i.e. totally skip, the workout.

Walking: Okay, this one I can do. This morning I got up early, bundled up for the 16 degree weather, and then I did something a little crazy for me. I snuck earphones under my hat and listened to music as I walked! (Thanks to the inspiration from my friend at Running With Music). "This is not so bad," I thought, as I cruised along with a little skip in my step. Jack Johnson, Ben Harper, and Ingrid Michaelson all sang to me as I walked along the Montpelier streets, passing dimly lit houses where I knew people were just getting up to start their day. I tried not to look too longingly at the runners going by, their determined looks, headlamps and shiny tights all taunting me. Instead, the music put me in a trance, and I let the miles tick by. Suddenly I realized I must have been gone a long time, and I imagined my husband at home trying to get the boys ready for school, wondering where I was. I hurried the last several blocks home, sure I had been gone an hour. Of course I didn't think about looking at my phone to check the time, and when I stepped inside our warm, quiet home, my family was just getting up. I had been gone only 23 minutes.

I have some work to do over the next several weeks. If you happen to see me doing my best to bend at a yoga class, be kind. If you see me splashing madly in the pool and barely moving forward, don't worry, I'm okay. And, if you see me walking in the early morning, and you hear me singing Ingrid Michaelson at the top of my lungs, just please go ahead and give me the "thumb's up." I'm just getting used to a different motion.

 P.S. You know those triathlons I was training for? This is me getting out of the water at one. Notice there is no one around me? Yeah, that's because I was the last one out of the water.